Nothing
by KT the Shimmer Skank
Summary: You're dead to me, he said. I wish I was. [oneshot]


**--Nothing--**

Rating: PG-13 for drug use/references and some language.

Spoilers: Heavy heavy spoilers from "Eye of the Tiger"

Author's Note: It should be pretty obvious, but just in case, I'd like to say that this story isn't connected in any way to my fic "Pieces of Nothing," despite the similar titles. The following is a songfic to "Solace" by Fuel, which I do not own. I also do not own Degrassi, naturally. Reviews would be most appreciated, and I do hope you enjoy.

Update: Despite the lyrics being perfectly suited to this story, I have had to remove them. Boo upon this bogus new policy.

oooooooooooo

I have nothing.

One month ago they expelled me from school. It feels like so much longer. My life since then feels like it has been a single blurred moment, stretched out for all eternity. I hit the bottle the minute I left. More bottles followed, then joints, then coke, then anything thing I could get my hands on. I haven't been sober for a God damn month. I haven't been home in two weeks. I haven't slept in five straight days. I've forgotten what it feels like to think straight. I've forgotten what it feels like to feel.

I can't go back home. I can't face anyone. I don't care what I have to do, so long as I can keep feeling like this. Feeling like nothing. It hurts too much to remember. Everything is gone. My world is so empty it's like I can't even breathe.

The truth will set you free, they say. That's a lie. I told the truth. I told Jimmy I'd stabbed him in the back. I told the principal that I pulled the prank. I don't know why I thought confessing would make everything right again. My guilt was erased, but the consequences were so much worse. It set me free, all right. Free from everything I'd ever known. No one wanted to give me a second chance. Not the school. Not Ms. Hatzilakos. Not my friends. Not my girlfriend. And most of all, not Jimmy.

"You're dead to me," he said.

I wish I was.

Unfortunately, I'm still alive. Wasted out of my mind, but still breathing. And I'm here. Here is nowhere. Here is no place. Here is an abandoned, run-down house on the farside of town. Hobos live here. They sleep in puddles of their own piss in the rooms across the hall. This is also where crackwhores, stray teenagers, and losers looking for a thrill come together. I sit on the mildewed yellow couch, surrounded by dozens of others who, like me, don't remember who they are. We laugh at nothing as loud music plays, smiling like we're happy or something. I bring the tip of my nose to the smooth glass surface of the mirror in my hand, and inhale deeply the soft white powdered lines. I paid for this coke with stolen money. Shrooms, pot, X, meth... they are poured onto the misaligned coffee table as the laughter continues and in the back of my head, I hope that whatever they bring is enough to kill me.

A girl named Amy giggles as she lays on top of me, sucking on my neck, rubbing her hands over me, whispering cheap inneundos into my ear. I can't hear her. I can't feel her. I'm somewhere else. I'm thinking of Manny. I remember how I planned so far ahead for. I'd thought of chocolates I'd buy her for Valentine's Day, the fancy restaurant I'd take her to on her birthday, the way I'd hold her in my arms as we danced slow dances at Prom. But all of that is gone now. Someone else will have to take her to Prom. Anger burns within me as I picture someone else, probably that annoying Asian kid, dancing with Manny and stroking her hair and listening to her laugh. I miss that laugh. I miss her. I want to cry but I'm too strung out to feel.

Amy laughs loudly, harshly, horribly into my ear as the guy across from us tells a joke. She's giving me a headache. I want to scream. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Nothing. I have nothing left to say, ever again. Amy gets up and leaves. Good. I want to be alone. But then she comes back. She puts something in my hand. It's a little white circle with a smiley face on it. Ecstasy. The love drug. The happy drug. Happy? I know I'll never be happy again. But what the hell. It's worth a shot. I put it on my tongue and wash it down with a swig of beer. I swallow hard.

"This place is lame," says Amy. "Let's get out of here. I know somewhere better. What's your name again?"

And so we go. We travel far. I don't even know what's going on around me, but I don't care. The lights along the city streets are so pretty. They sing and dance around me as we ride in the back seat of one of Amy's friend's car. Everything is funny. Everything is beautiful. Ecstasy.

We pass a Stop N Shop and I laugh. I laugh so hard, and everyone else in the car laughs too, because they think it's funny that they have no idea why I'm laughing. I'm laughing because I remember trips to the Stop N Shop to buy spray cheese. I remember good times. I remember my friends. I remember basketball games and English assignments and staying up all night at each other's houses. I remember school dances and stolen MP3 players, cafeteria hair nets and first boners. Whipped cream fights. Break-dancing contests. Worn-out hoodies. Drum sticks. The images in my mind start to fade. I can't hold onto them. All of that is gone now.

We go to a club. More lights, more colors, louder music. Everyone there is smiling and dancing. Amy leads me to the center of the dance floor and we move back and forth to the beat. We're buried so deeply in the crowd and in the flashing lights that I can't see anything anymore. Everything is a big blob of color. So I've done it. I've forgotten. I've finally lost myself, gotten rid of the Spinner Mason that I hate so much. I am nowhere. I am nothing. This is where I want to be.

I dance for hours. I laugh. I smile. I sweat. I scream. No one hears me over the throbbing music. Suddenly I'm getting really hot. I can't breathe any more, it's too damn hot in here. Sweat streams down every inch of my skin. I'm so so so thirsty but I don't want anything to drink and I don't know why. I'm scared. All the faces look the same, all the voices sound like high pitched wails that mix in with the pounding techno beats of the turntables. I'm freaking out. Paranoia, disorentation, walls are closing in. Music's too loud. Spinning too fast. Can't breathe.

I run away. I walk out the back door of the crowded club and the cold January air hits my sweat-covered face. I sit down, curled in a ball, on the gravel of the alleyway. A hand comes down on my shoulder. I look up and see Jimmy standing over me. He's here with me now. I start crying.

"Jimmy," I whisper, gazing at him through my bloodshot eyes. "You gotta help me, man. I don't remember where I am. This place... what is this place? I'm scared as shit, man."

He smiles and laughs. "Spinner, you idiot," he says, patting my shoulder. "What are we going to do with you?"

I stand up and shrug, laughing with him. It feels so good to have a friend again. "You could start with buying me a pizza. I'm starving."

He nods. "Sounds like a plan to me. We should probably pick up Manny first, though. She's worried sick about you. She can't stop talking about you."

"Manny?" I feel my heart begin to soar. I cry harder. "God. I thought you guys hated me. I thought... I thought I'd lost everything..."

He pulls me into his arms and hugs me. I bury my face on his shoulder and cry. I cry out all the hurting that's been going on in my head since the day he got shot. But now there's hope again. I have a second chance. I can make everything right again and everyone will love me again and all this pain can come to an end. I hold Jimmy tighter. I never want to let go. "Shh. Spin, it's okay now. We're going to take care of you."

And suddenly it occurs to me that Jimmy is standing on his own two legs, even though the last time I saw him, he was stuck in a wheelchair for life. And that's when I open my eyes again and realize there's nobody there. I'm holding on to nothing but cold air. Reality comes back and hits me hard as I remember everything. I'm nothing but a loser, an exile, a wastoid with no place to call home. I'm standing in a cold alleyway behind a club that I don't even remember coming to. I am alone. Jimmy's not coming. Manny's not waiting for me. Nobody wants to see my face again.

I have nothing.


End file.
